


Never Have I Ever

by kerithwyn



Series: Beyond the Fringe: Tales from the Kinkmeme [16]
Category: Fringe
Genre: Cracky McCrack fic, Fringe Kink Meme, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/pseuds/kerithwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team plays I Never. Hilarity ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Fringe kinkmeme](http://fringe-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/) using the following prompt:
> 
> Peter/Olivia; playing I Never, it somehow ends up being about sexual kinks  
> Bonus points if they're at a bar with Astrid and Blue!Lincoln  
>  
> 
> I would like to collect my bonus points. ;) Not that this needs setup, but...let’s say s4, after Olivia’s gotten her memories back and is getting reacquainted with everyone. Tried to write this extemporaneously and proved once again I’m no good at it. Unbetaed.

“Never have I ever...” Olivia muses, “kissed another woman. In my own body,” she adds, before any smartass can mention the stripper incident.

Peter drinks. Lincoln drinks. Astrid raises an amused eyebrow, and drinks.

“Gonna learn all kinds of interesting things tonight,” Peter murmurs.

“Nobody asked before!” Astrid shoots back, and Peter and Olivia both wince a little. “Never have I ever paid for sex.”

Lincoln and Olivia roll their eyes in tandem. Peter hesitates for a long, long moment, then picks up his glass. “Accidentally counts, right?”

“Drink up. Then spill,” Astrid demands, because the look on Olivia’s face promises mayhem if she doesn’t get an immediate explanation. 

Peter takes a long swallow of his beer, clearly fighting for time. “It was...a language barrier error. I thought I was just paying an exorbitant price for lodging, and the innkeeper’s daughter was a welcome surprise bed warmer. It was *cold* in Yakutsk.”

Olivia looks mollified, but only barely. “We’ll talk more about that one later, Bishop. Lincoln, go.”

“Never have I ever had sex with more than one person at the same time,” Lincoln says, on a single breath and with what sounds like real regret.

Peter, to the surprise of some, doesn’t drink. Astrid shrugs and does, her smile daring comment, and this time it’s Olivia who hesitates.

“Does brainwashed while in another universe count?”

The looks that flash around the table between the other three are made up of equal parts chagrin and curiosity, but it’s Lincoln who finally ventures, “Uh, jury says no. Sorry.”

Olivia gives him a bright smile. “No need to apologize. That’s one of my good memories from over there. Your alternate...made things more pleasant than they could’ve been.” She takes a long drink and signals for a refill on the pitcher, while Lincoln sputters and tries to regain his composure. “That’s for all the other things that didn’t happen in this universe.”

Peter waits for the waitress to move away before picking up the game. “Never...hm. Have I had sex in an elevator.”

He looks around, and his face settles into disappointment as no one drinks. “What, seriously? Okay, that’s one for everyone’s bucket list. How about an airplane?”

“One question at a time,” Olivia rebukes him mildly. “Let’s get serious. Never have I ever, and I think this is a damn shame, woken up to someone giving me oral sex.”

“No fair using this as your personal request list,” Peter complains softly, and turns to stare as Lincoln drinks.

“I second the ‘damn shame’ comment. Peter, rectify that for her, would you?” Astrid says with a straight face. “I think Lincoln is our secret ringer, here. Never have I ever used gun-play.”

Lincoln shakes his head while Olivia gives that lopsided smile again. “Other universe still doesn’t count.” Peter sighs and picks up his glass.

“Somehow Astrid’s tapped into all my most embarrassing moments. It didn’t *start* as a sexy gun moment.” He drinks, wincing. “It didn’t really end that way, either.”

Astrid cracks up, doubling over, while Lincoln leans back in his chair. “You’re really going to have to chronicle all those moments. For posterity. And instruction on the life of a wandering con man.”

“More like a cautionary tale,” Olivia smirks. “Lincoln, make it a good one. The more Peter drinks, the more he forgets to guard his tongue.”

Lincoln looks thoughtful. “Never have I ever...had sex while stoned. Not for lack of interest,” he adds, while the other three drink. “I just didn’t get invited to the right parties.”

“It was the ugly glasses, I bet. Never have I ever,” Peter says intently, staring at Lincoln, “performed oral sex on a guy, and it *wasn’t* while drunk or as part of a role I was playing. --Not that anyone ever forced me to do anything,” he adds hastily to their combined looks.

“DADT never applied to FBI. Could’ve just asked. But I’m sorry on your behalf.” Lincoln clinks glasses with Olivia and Astrid, and the three of them take healthy swallows. 

“Everyone game for round three?” Olivia asks, and smiles as her team waves her on. “Right. To keep this relatively fair, I’m going to skip all the other things I’ve never done with a woman. So--never have I ever enjoyed being tied up for sexual purposes. Or any other reason.”

“Lucky I do, then,” Peter says, and grins at Astrid as they both drink. Lincoln heaves a sigh.

“Pass on that one by default. Never had the chance to find out.”

The chorus of “awwwws” that echoes around the table makes him roll his eyes. “Astrid, help me salvage my reputation.”

“Don’t you mean pollute it?” she asks sweetly. “Something you and Peter have both done, and I haven’t...hmm. Let me think a minute.”

“Who exactly is the ringer here?” Lincoln says, sotto voce, and ducks as Astrid wings a wadded-up napkin in his direction. It goes wide and she blinks.

“I am not that bad a shot. You’re all scoring too many points off me, stop it. Oh! Never have I ever,” she says triumphantly, “gotten off on standard commercial porn.”

“Low blow,” Peter grumbles, as he and Lincoln drink. “But that implies there’s some *nonstandard* porn that does it for you. Care to share?”

“That’s a different game,” Astrid says primly, and winks to Olivia’s approving nod. “Okay, Lincoln, my head is swimming, so give me a break this time.”

“Not enough data to speculate with any accuracy. What’s the tally, by the way?”

Olivia rattles off the count without hesitation. “Ten questions, Peter leads with six yes answers. Astrid has five, Lincoln four, and I’ve only been dinged for two with an unspecified number of affirmatives that don’t count.” She shrugs to their disbelieving looks. “Wrong questions, maybe. Plus, you know, I was a bookworm at school.”

“Hey!” Astrid and Lincoln both protest, and Astrid continues as Lincoln motions for her to go on. “Wrong pretext, in this crowd. Not that you have anything to apologize for.”

Olivia shakes her head. “Sorry, that’s--not what I meant, exactly. I was just never good at...dating. Formally or informally.”

“I knew we had a lot in common,” Lincoln murmurs. “But it’s still my turn. Never have I ever, uh, given or received a golden shower. Being peed on by the cow doesn’t count.”

“Nice,” Peter mutters, and looks over in astonishment as Olivia reaches for her glass.

“On the other hand,” Olivia says with dignity, “John Scott was not as vanilla as everyone thought he was.”

Astrid starts giggling as Lincoln spreads his hands in semi-apology. “Didn’t expect to get a hit on that one, honestly.”

“Lincoln, you know Olivia can drink the rest of us under the table, don’t worry about it.” Peter looks around with narrowed eyes. “My last chance to even the score this round. I’ve never had cyber-sex of any kind.”

“Hold on. Any parameters there?” Astrid says, as she and Olivia and Lincoln all start to reach for their drinks.

Peter waves impatiently. “Communicating with another person over a computer with sexual intent. Chat room, webcam, text messages, whatever.”

“Oh, well then.” Astrid salutes the other two as they all drink. “I’m surprised, Peter. With all your traveling...”

“...I was always too busy to fool around with virtual people. And frankly, too paranoid. The less of a footprint I had, including an Internet one, the better.” He shrugs. “The real thing is more satisfying anyway.”

“Amen,” Lincoln says, and smiles. “Pause to stretch our legs before the next round?”

***

[a brief interlude]

Peter watches Olivia and Astrid head off together in the direction of the ladies’ room. “You know they’re going to talk about us.”

“Sure.” Lincoln seems remarkably unfazed by the prospect. “Anything you want to get off your chest before they get back?”

“Hm.” Peter leans against the bar, stretching his legs. “You’re full of surprises.”

Lincoln laughs, a full-throated sound. “I really don’t have any stories to match yours. Accidental john and a loaded weapon kink? You’ve led an interesting life.”

“Yeah, you know what they say about interesting times.” 

“True. Listen, Peter...” Lincoln’s voice goes low, earnest. “I really am happy for you and Olivia. The way you are together...I’ve never seen her laugh like that. She might have been comfortable with me, but she fits with you.”

Peter looks at him, doesn’t say a word, and finally puts out his hand. Lincoln takes it and finds himself drawn into a hug, a full-on embrace rather than a manly shoulder-bump. Lincoln smiles against Peter’s shoulder.

“Someday you’re going to have to tell me what the new glasses were really about.”

 

[meanwhile]

“We should have done this years ago,” Olivia says into the mirror, her voice half apology.

Astrid smiles at her reflection. “Timing is everything. And I think now is the perfect time. You’re...relaxed enough to enjoy the game.”

“So you’re saying I just needed to get laid regularly, is that it?” Olivia deadpans.

“If the condom fits,” Astrid shoots back, grinning. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

Olivia tilts her head a little. “Are you?”

Astrid’s laugh echoes off the tiled floor. “You don’t need to worry about me in that regard, Olivia. I’m perfectly capable of finding my fun. Or making my own.”

“Sounds like it. I just....” Olivia’s smile goes lopsided, rueful. “Four years in close quarters and I should have known some of these things about you already.”

“It’s fine, Olivia,” Astrid insists, her voice earnest. “I didn’t volunteer these things before, on purpose. Despite tonight’s...impromptu confessional...I usually prefer to keep work and private time separate.”

“What little private time we have,” Olivia says with a sigh, and Astrid nods in agreement. “I just wanted to say, I know things have been a little--okay, a lot weird lately. I’m still sorting through all my memories, but I want to make sure I don’t forget who my friends are.”

“If you do,” Astrid says, bumping her shoulder, “I’ll make sure to remind you. Now c’mon, let’s catch up with the guys before they lose their nerve for round four.”

***

Their glasses are refilled, the pretzel bowl in the middle of the table is overflowing, and Olivia looks around at her teammates. “Okay, where were we.”

“With Astrid and Peter in a race to out-kink us both,” Lincoln says dryly.

Peter and Astrid exchange a glance, and Lincoln winces. “...I’ve just made myself a target, haven’t I.”

Olivia smiles at him. “I think they both believe you have some hidden depths to uncover.”

“I’m an open book,” Lincoln protests, spreading his hands, while the other three laugh. “I mean, clearly we’ve established I’ve missed a few, um, formative experiences.”

“But you’ve got to admit, our line of work invites a certain type. Open to possibilities, let’s say.” Olivia’s expression turns a little wry. “Your sense of...propriety...sort of becomes skewed after awhile.”

“Which is a nice way of saying that Fringe Division recruits all the latent perverts.” Peter grins around the table. “Present company included. Even if Lincoln plays it oh-so-coy.”

Lincoln just sighs and waves his hand in a “get on with it” gesture. “Olivia, you’ll be gentle, right?”

Peter barks an unexpected laugh. “If you think that, clearly you never--” He cuts himself off. “...I really should stop talking out of turn.”

“Yes,” Olivia agrees, in a mild tone that none of them buy into for a second. “Let’s see. Never have I ever had to go beg, borrow, or steal condoms in a fit of sexual impatience.”

“You sure you went to college?” Lincoln grumbles as he and the other three all drink.

She laughs. “Nina sent me off to school with a ridiculous stash. More often I was the one handing them out.”

“Wish you’d been at my school.” Astrid rolls her shoulders with a mischievous look in her eye. “Olivia was being polite, but I clearly have no shame. Regrettably, never have I ever been able to deep-throat a guy. Too much gag reflex, and close only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades. Also counts if it’s been done to you,” she adds, and lifts a fist in triumph when everyone else drinks.

Lincoln coughs a little, looking like he’s still recovering from Astrid’s admission, and his own. “After the last few questions, I think you can lose your assumptions about my supposed modesty. Not that there’s anything wrong with this...but never have I ever pierced anything. Ears are exempt,” he amends quickly. “Cheap shot, sorry.”

Astrid grins and reaches for her glass...and then pulls her hand back. “Not cheap enough. Almost did! But I was determined to join the FBI and didn’t want to give anyone a reason to reject me, even though I knew that wasn’t cause.”

“But threesomes and the occasional mood enhancements were fair game,” Peter teases, without any malice.

Astrid shrugs. “No lasting marks for those. And really, anything I tried was just training wheels compared to Walter’s psychoactives.” 

“Anything would be.” Peter turns and prods Lincoln with a finger. “There’s an idea. We should break out Walter’s Brown Betty, have a party.”

Lincoln turns to stare at him, wide-eyed, and it takes a moment for Peter to register that the rest of the table is staring too. “What?”

“Given the context of this discussion,” Astrid says, clearly barely holding on to a straight face, “it sounds like you just invited Lincoln to the kind of party that he missed out on.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Peter grumbles, and winces as the whole table dissolves into laughter. “Yeah, not that either.”

“I should hope not,” Olivia says, her mouth still twitching. “At the very least you should’ve asked me for permission first.”

Peter raises an eyebrow at her, but then shakes his head. “At least it’s my turn, and that means everyone else is free to incriminate themselves. Despite the fact that I’ve been accused of needing one--that is not an invitation--I’ve never worn a collar for discipline or any other purpose. Or, hell, let’s be equal opportunity here. I haven’t put one on someone else, either.”

Olivia huffs out an amused breath. “There’s a hit you probably didn’t think you’d get.” She takes a quick drink, smiling as Astrid does the same.

“John Scott again?” Astrid asks, and laughs to Olivia’s nod. “Those spine-straight types are always bent. Mine was a sweet goth boy with a drawer full of sexy leather. I mostly did it as a Halloween thing, but that was definitely more treat than trick.”

“Wish you’d been at my school,” Olivia mimics. “I probably would’ve had a lot more fun.” She stands up, stretching briefly. “Keep going?”

“I’ll get another pitcher,” Lincoln volunteers, and Olivia smiles and walks casually toward the back of the bar again.

“Game delayed by Olivia’s tiny bladder,” Peter chuckles softly. He leans back in his chair, eyeing Astrid across the table. “Either you’re a better actress than I gave you credit for, or....”

“Or?” Astrid repeats with a smile.

“Don’t know the alternative. In four years, you never showed up at the lab late, hung over, or looking like you’d spent the night...” he waves a hand vaguely. “Engaging in active debauchery.”

“Nice euphemism.” Astrid leans forward, her hands propped under her chin. “Like I told Olivia, I try very hard to keep work and playtime separate. But a lot of my answers don’t necessarily reflect recent experiences.”

“Guess I can see how this job could put a kibosh on your sex life.”

Astrid stretches her hands above her head, smiling. “I manage.”

“Manage what?” Lincoln asks, returning with a full pitcher.

“Manage to keep my private life private, even with my nosy coworkers,” she teases with a wink. “But you know all about that, too.”

“Well, you know, after being embraced by a sentient fungus, very little could compare,” Lincoln says dryly, and Astrid and Peter are still laughing about that when Olivia returns to the table.

She looks around at all of them consideringly. “Let’s try a speed round. No explanation, just drink or don’t. Breath play.”

Peter makes a face, but refrains from comment as he drinks. 

Astrid narrows her eyes at him, like she’s going in for the kill. “Knife or blood play.”

Olivia and Lincoln both look like they want to ask a question, then simultaneously shrug and drink. Peter waves a hand over his head, signaling a near-miss. 

Lincoln glances up at the ceiling for a moment, then back down at the other three. “Spanking.”

Olivia and Peter drink, both with some apparent surprise at seeing the other lift a glass.

Peter looks thoughtful, then smug. “Double penetration, taken, any orifices.”

Olivia looks a little like she’s about to throw her beer in Peter’s face, but she drinks it instead. Astrid chuckles and does as well.

“Informative,” Lincoln says softly.

“That’s just because you got out easy this round,” Olivia says with an annoyed glare toward Peter. “Tally puts me even with Astrid, Peter ahead by one, Lincoln behind by one.”

“There, see? Socially awkward or not, we’re all more or less even. Olivia’s hypothesis seems to be holding true. But unlike Peter, I would have said ‘adults with healthy sex lives’ rather than ‘perverts.’” Astrid smiles a little. “Though the breath and blood play is a little hazardous for my taste.” She yawns. “Another round or two, maybe, and then someone has to put me in a cab.”

“Sounds good. Here’s a shot in the dark: public sex.” No one went for a glass, and Olivia snapped her fingers in disappointment. “Oh, well.”

“A fairly private crew here, despite everything,” Astrid says consolingly. “Unless you’re talking about stripping down to your underwear in the middle of the lab, and speaking of that: sensory deprivation.”

Olivia breaks into a startled laugh, but lifts her glass and salutes Astrid before she drinks. “That was...an unexpected consequence.”

“It’s Walter’s toy,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes. “Kidding yourself if you think he wasn’t aware of its potential sexual use.” He pauses. “And I just grossed myself out.”

“Cannot be unseen,” Lincoln groans. “Although I’m sorry to have missed Olivia’s, um, exhibition.”

“Stick around, kid, it’s sure to happen again sometime,” Peter tells him with a grin. Olivia makes a circle with her middle finger and thumb, and flicks him in the head.

“Next time, Bishop, you go in the tank.”

Lincoln smiles. “That’d be okay too. My turn? Never have I ever found ice or cold to be particularly stimulating.”

“Not doing it right,” Astrid says with some authority, and then giggles as she drinks.

Peter does too. “I did say it was cold in Yakutsk. Okay, here’s an easy one: military uniform kink.”

“Who doesn’t love a man in a uniform?” Astrid murmurs, and Lincoln gives a wry smile of agreement before he drinks. Olivia just sighs as she lifts her glass.

“Hard not to, as a Marine. One more round, to break this three-way deadlock?” Astrid motions her assent, and Olivia nods. “All right. Never have I ever had sex with someone I would classify as a fuck buddy.”

“Good for you,” Astrid says, sounding completely sincere even as she picks up her glass. Peter and Lincoln drink as well, looking a little sheepish.

Olivia frowns. “I didn’t mean-- honestly, sometimes I wish I’d--”

Peter shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“You’re just more patient than the rest of us, Olivia.” Astrid rubs at her eyes. “Let’s see. Can’t talk about authority figures, because you’ve all *seen* Agent Broyles, right?” She blinks, looking around the table. “TMI, right. I’ve never...hm. I’ve never successfully been able to reach an altered state purely through sex. Like subspace or topspace, or--”

“I know what you mean,” Lincoln says quietly, and drinks. 

“That’s fantastic. I’d really love to hear about it, if you--” Astrid cuts herself off. “Sorry. What’s mentioned during bar night stays at bar night.”

Lincoln nods, his gaze somewhere far away. “Maybe someday. Cross-dressing or genderplay?” 

“Broad area,” Astrid comments, and rolls her eyes as she’s the only one to pick up her glass. 

Olivia tilts her head. “Actually, that’s one where I’m not sure where it counts or not.”

“If you have to ask....” Peter says, and laughs as Olivia shrugs and drinks. “Last question. Never. Have I ever. Gone into a shop to buy sex toys--” he pauses dramatically. “For *myself.*”

“Stop.” Olivia holds up a hand before anyone can reach for a glass. “Are you saying the...last items...you bought for me weren’t just as much a present for you?”

Peter stares at her, and then his head drops down until it hits the table. “Just perjured myself, huh,” he says, his voice muffled. “What’s the penalty?”

“The penalty,” Olivia says after a quick corroborating glance at Astrid and Lincoln, “is the end of the game, and now you have to wonder forever about that last answer. Minus that the tally is just about even and I think we’ve all given a good accounting of ourselves.”

“If not slightly embarrassing,” Lincoln says with a shrug. 

Astrid gets up slowly, her hand on the edge of the table for balance. “Wooo. No, like you said, informative. And this was fun.”

“Broadened my horizons,” Peter says without any irony whatsoever. They all step out into the cool night air, smiling. “Good thing Olivia’s apartment is close enough to walk. You two going to be all right?”

“I’m just a couple of blocks that way.” Lincoln waves a hand up the street. “But I’ll wait and make sure Astrid gets a taxi.”

“Then we’ll see you Monday,” Olivia says with a nod and a smile, and she and Peter head down the street and out of sight.

Lincoln looks after them a moment, then at Astrid. “I had one more. Never have I ever asked a beautiful co-worker to come home with me after a night of drinking and ill-advised bar games we’ll all be self-conscious about in the morning.” He pauses. “But there’s a first time for everything.”

“Yes, there is.” Astrid leans into him, smiling. “But not tonight? I’d rather be asked by a handsome, clear-headed, wide-awake colleague.”

“I can find one for you...” Lincoln starts, and the breath whooshes out of him as Astrid elbows him in the ribs. “Rain check, then.”

“Don’t forget.” Astrid tilts her head up at him and grins. “Unless I ask you first.”

“Maybe we can revise some of those no answers together,” Lincoln says, looking like he doesn’t believe what’s just fallen out of his own mouth.

Astrid laughs, loud enough to draw the attention of other late-night loiterers. “Oh, oh, Lincoln. Now I really can’t wait.” She reaches up to pat his cheek, letting her fingers linger as a cab pulls up. “So tempting. That last question...I’ll be thinking of you.”

Judging by the look on his face as the taxi pulls away, she’s pretty sure Lincoln will be thinking of her too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to eliade’s magnificent [kinks list](http://eliade.livejournal.com/472331.html) for inspiration, and the one at [kink-bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) as well.
> 
> I did way too much thinking about some of the answers here. I had a *chart*! :p Important to note they might not reflect how I write these characters in other fics--sexuality even more fluid in fiction than in life. ;)


End file.
